The Utmost Regret
by Tessie26
Summary: It's Christmas, and Martin is spending the holiday with his Aunt Betsy in New York. On Christmas eve, Betsy shows Martin something that makes him see Fatherhood in a new light. Set during Season 10. Expanded to be a collection of Martin ficlets!
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Hi everyone! This is my first _7th Heaven _story, and I'm very excited about posting it. I have fics in other categories, but I've watched _7th Heaven_ from the very first episode. Martin's recent storyline for the 10th season inspired me to write this. This is a one-shot and It takes place after the episodes _It's Late_ and _Home Run_, but before _Momma's Gonna Buy You a Diamond Ring_.

* * *

Opening the car door, he stepped out onto a carpet of freshly turned fall leaves. It'd been much warmer the last time he'd visited, he thought, as he walked the twenty feet from the car to the gate. The rickety iron frame opened easily, the sign above which, read: 

_Park Rose Cemetery _

_Est. 1972_

Martin knew his way around expertly, having navigated through the hardened grounds many times before. Crossing endless rows of headstones, countless sections, and generations of people, all laid to rest here, he arrived at the one he knew so well; The gentle carvings of the marble stone were alone enough to slightly sadden him as his green eyes swept the engraving.

_Elizabeth Layton Brewer _

_April 12th 1967 - November 7th 1998 _

_Beloved Wife and Mother_

Sitting down about two feet from the headstone itself, he was reminded that it was approaching the seventh anniversary of his Mother's death.

For the next twenty minutes he stared silently at the square marble, in front of which were the remains of the last few times the grave had been visited; The flowers his father had planted last spring, now dried and withered with the fall, the cross he himself had put there when he'd visited on his mother's birthday, and finally, a miniature flag that his Aunt Betsy had sewn by hand last Christmas. It was made of white silk, and embroidered in pale blue stitching were three letters: _Liz_, which, instead of the more formal version of her name, his mother had always preferred to be called.

"Hi, Mom, It's me, It's Martin. I'm sorry, I know it's been a few months since I've visited. I guess there's just been a lot going on lately. Senior year's just not as easy as I thought it would be... Anyway, Dad's home; I don't know If he's been by yet or not."

The cemetery was about an hour and a half from Glenoak, and originally, It was part of the town where his mother had grown up. But years had passed, and now only the cemetery remained. Before her death, Liz Brewer had told her husband that she wanted to be buried in Park Rose, since the family had only ever lived on military bases before. Park Rose had been her home, and now she'd get to stay there forever.

"It was kind of sad to move out of the Camden's. Not that I'm not happy to have Dad home, It was just,... I don't know, It was nice to be part of a big family for once. I think you would've really liked them, especially Mrs. Camden, she reminds me a lot of you."

What he had to say next was hard, but he had to tell someone. He couldn't handle it alone, and, as when she was alive, he could always depend on his mother.

"Last summer, Simon took me to visit his campus. It looked really fun, being in college. Simon and his girlfriend wanted to go out, so they set me up with one of their friends, Sandy, and we went to a restaurant in town for pizza. I don't know exactly why, but, being there ...I felt Important, I felt grown up. Not just emotionally, I felt like I was different internally."

The wind blew slightly, rustling the leaving, and blowing his hair down over his forehead as he spoke.

"We went back to her dorm room afterwards; One minute we were talking about the weather, and the next..."

His eyes stung badly with forthcoming tears, clouding his vision.

"And the next I was having sex with her."

Somehow, this was all the harder to say due to the fact that his mother was dead, and he couldn't help thinking that it would all be okay if she could just hold him again.

"I don't know what I was thinking, Mom. I know you always told me to respect the girls I dated. God, I didn't even know her, I can't even make an excuse and tell you that I did it because I love her... because I don't."

He absentmindedly tore patches of grass out of the earth around him, the dirt and the small brown blades running through his fingers.

"She came to church last week with Simon and his girlfriend, and she kept asking to talk to me, but I kept telling her that I didn't want to see her again. Later on, she finally cornered me into talking to her,... and she told me she was pregnant."

"I can't do this, I'm too _afraid_ to! I want to play baseball, I want to date, I want to go to college, I just want to be a normal eighteen-year-old guy! I don't want any of this, I don't want to be a father at eighteen!"

The tears flowed uncontrollably, as he shouted at the unresponsive marble stone.

"I can't tell anyone, not the Camdens, not Dad. He'd never live down the disappointment, and you know it; He'd never be able to forgive me for being a failure!"

"I'm sorry, Mom. I'm sorry that this whole thing ever happened!"

And then, with his head tilted toward the grey skies, he continued to cry tears of the utmost sorrow and regret that his soul could give.

"_I'm sorry, God!_"

* * *

Yup, that was it. Like it? Hate it? Find it the stupidest damn thing ever? Tell me in a review! Thanks-Tessie:) 


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: Hi again everyone! Okay, well, um, this originally started as a one-shot (i.e., the last chapter), but I've thought it over, and I've decided to make it a collection of MartinSandyBaby themed one-shots. That said, this one-shot features Martin's father, whom we haven't seen on the show in a while. This may be outdated as Martin's storyline progresses on the show, but I couldn't help myslef, I had to write it. Keep in mind that this takes place just after the episode _Ring Around the Rosie_.

* * *

"Martin, is that you?" Lt. Bill Brewer called from the kitchen as Martin walked through the front door. 

"Yeah, Dad... It's me." Martin replied, somewhat reluctantly. Dropping his bag on the couch, an action he knew that his obsessively tidy father would likely scold him for later, he headed through the living room and into the kitchen.

"You're just in time, Marty. I made dinner; that new instant lasagna you've been wantin' to try." His father said.

In reality, Martin was about as excited to eat right now as the Wicked Witch probably was to see that bucket of water.

"Sounds great, Dad." Martin replied, forcing the cheerfulness into his voice.

Bill Brewer looked at his son, and despite having spent the last year of his life in a bunker in the middle of the desert, he knew instantly that something wasn't right. He knew because his wife used to wear the same expression when she was upset, as Martin was wearing right now.

"Why the long face, kid? Something bothering you?"

In the process of setting the kitchen table, Martin shook his head. "I guess practice was just longer than usual."

"Martin, I've spent the last two years of my life wading through the sand of a foreign country. I'm a little sharper than you think. You've been moping around about something for a few weeks now, don't think I haven't noticed."

Oh, no.

"Are you going to tell me what it is?"

His father looked at him expectantly. Martin knew that look well. He couldn't lie to his father, and he never had. Sure, he'd neglected to tell him things, but he had never flat-out lied. In his heart, he knew that he wasn't going to start now.

"It's kind of complicated." Martin said, almost timidly.

"If it's complicated, it's complicated." Lt. Brewer pulled out a chair at the table, and encouraged Martin to do the same. "But that doesn't mean I don't want to help you."

Martin ran a hand through his dark hair, sighing in what seemed to his father like nervousness.

"Do you remember last summer, the night I went out with Simon?" Martin asked. His father nodded in response, then sat silently while his son continued to explain.

Several things ran through Bill Brewer's head as his son spoke. The first of which was the thought that the whole situation was his fault. After all, he'd left his teenage son half a world away for more than two years, with only brief and occasional visits in between.

Of course, he and Martin had talked about things like this before. That was the problem, he realized. The discussions had taken place before Martin ever actually _had_ a girlfriend, before he was even really _dating_ seriously, before he was swayed by the pressures of high school precedent. Martin had always reassured him, always told him that he wasn't going to have sex before marriage, that he didn't have to worry. But now, it looked as if all of that was out the window. So much for not worrying.

How had he not seen this coming? Did he really expect that Reverend and Mrs. Camden would be watching his son's sexual habits that carefully? That they would be able to talk him out of having sex, not just with any of his girlfriends, but with any other young woman who might try to persuade him into having sex?

Then again, Martin had just said that he'd lost his virginity in June. He was already home in June. Martin asked come to him for permission to go with Simon. Why had he said yes? Was it because he really believed that Martin was mature enough to socialize with college students? Or had he somewhere, subconsciously, perhaps, been trying to make up for the time he'd been away by giving him freedom? It was almost like buying his love with favors.

Getting to the end of his explanation, Martin said finally. "She tracked me down after church a few weeks ago. From what she told me, It, ..."

This was very hard for himsay this tohis father, the man whom he respected so deeply, loved so much, who wanted nothing more than to make proud of him, and now that was all about to come crashing down.

"...It looks like I'm gonna be a father."

The last thing that Lt. Brewer had ever expected to hear was that. He'd thought Martin would say that he regretted having sex, or that he maybe ended up with a reputation at school. But never, ever, would he have though that his son could be that rash when it came to something this serious.

"You didn't use protection?" It was more a statement than a question. Martin shook his head, and then lowered it, looking completely ashamed at having disappointed him.

"Are you still seeing her?"

Again Martin shook his head. "I didn't even really like her." He admitted sadly.

"Oh God." Bill said to himself, putting his head in his hands. This would mean the end of everything he'd tried to give Martin. No college, no well-paying job, no major league baseball. But what was worse was that he was powerless to stop it.

"Oh God!" He exclaimed again, this time in anger. In one swift, almost involuntary motion, he cleared the entire table with one sweep of his arm, sending several plates, forks, and knives hurling to the floor, the plates shattering in the process.

Martin stood quickly, trying to avoid being hit by any of the flying dinnerware. There was only one thing he could think of to say.

"I'm sorry, Dad."

"That's an empty apology, Marty, and you know it!" His father shouted, without meaning to sound so angry.

"What are you gonna do now? How are you going to support a family? I'm not a millionaire, Martin. I get paid for my work overseas, but I can't handle another family, let alone the amount of money it would take to raise a baby. I hate to say it, but 'Sorry' can't fix this."

The tears Martin felt he deserved were slowly leaking from his eyes, when he said. "There's Mom's life insurance policy."

"I don't want to hear you bring that up again." Lt. Brewer said, his voice still raised slightly. That money is for your college education. That's the whole reason your Mother took that life insurance policy out in the first place."

"Well, the way it looks, I'm probably not going to college." There was an edge to his voice now, his shame turning to anger. Not at his father, but at himself.

"Don't you dare use that tone with me, Martin! You're going to college, if It's the last thing I do!"

"The same thing happened to Mom, and she never finished." Martin commented.

"You have a lot of nerve bring that up. It was not even remotely the same situation. You know that!" His father roared.

"I don't see how it's any different. Mom got pregnant with me out of wedlock, didn't she?" It stung his father to hear that, and he could see that. "Technically, that was the reason you guys even got married in the first place, right?"

He could have smacked his son at that moment, and that was saying something, as he had _never_ hit Martin before.

"That's not true at all, Martin! Your Mother and I were both adults when you came along. We'd finished high school, and I'd already been given my first assignment as a Marine. We were going to get married anyway, when your Mom found out she was pregnant we just got married sooner."

"But you still had sex out of _wedlock_." Martin countered.

"Don't follow my example! Just because I got lucky when it came to the timing, doesn't meanI was right in what I did!" That had come out wrong. Hefelt itas soon as the words left his mouth.

To Bill's surprise, though, Martin didn't yell back. He reacted simply by leaning against the kitchen wall, and sobbing. A more anguished cry than he had heard out of any wounded solider, or any war-stricken civilian in Iraq.

Stepping meekly over to his son, a wave of the utmost sorrow and regret flooded him, and for the first time since he'd been home, he took his son in his arms, and held him.

"I know, Martin. I didn't mean that. I'm sorry." The only thing he could do now was hope that it wasn't an empty apology.

* * *

Okay that's it for this chapter! Um, just to let everyone know, what was mentioned about Martin's Mom and Dad getting pregnant out of wedlock is true. Martin's father mentions it in the episode of season eight when he visits called Healing Old Wounds. Anywho, Tell me what you think! 

Did you love it? Hate it? Did you wonder how the hell it was possible for someone to write something so badly? Tell me in a review! Thanks!

-Tessie:)


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Yes, new inspiration! Yayy me!

* * *

"Ugh, I hate this door." Sandy mumbled as she threw all her weight toward the door of her dorm, trying in vain to force it open. "It does this to me all the time."

They'd been standing outside for about five minutes now, and the door wouldn't budge; the result of a long overdue maintenance inspection at the college.

"Here, I'll try. Maybe the cold is making it stick." Martin said. Sandy nodded, stepping aside.

Martin grasped the doorknob, and, using all his strength, he leaned into the door. Luckily, after a few seconds the door swung open, throwing him foward and knocking him off balance.

Moving past him and into the dorm, Sandy helped him up. "I'm sorry, I should really have that fixed. Are you okay?"

"It's not a problem, I think I'll live." He replied, collecting himself and closing the door.

A few moments of awkward silence passed between them, while she busied herself with hanging up her coat and offering him a seat at the table, and he with running through the night's events in his mind.

They'd gone with Simon and Rose for pizza at a local restaurant, and then the two couples had gone their separate ways: Rose and Simon to a movie, and Sandy and Martin to various sites in town, where she told him about college life. After a few hours, they'd decided it best to go back to Sandy's dorm and wait for Simon and Rose, rather than standing out in the cold by the movie theater. And so, here they were, standing in the same room with absolutely nothing to say to each other.

"It's really gotten colder, hasn't it?" Sandy was the one to break the silence, saying the first thing that came to her mind.

"Yeah, it has." He agreed. After yet another pause, he added "My Dad, he's in landscaping, and he's been wearing three or four layers a day to work."

"That's a lot of layers." She commented

"Yeah. We can barely wash them as fast as he wears them, and he's afraid we're gonna run out of shirts."

She laughed softly. It was too bad that most of the guys she'd dated were living on pizza, sex, and a C average. What she wouldn't give to go back to high school, where everything was simple.

Martin, however, was thinking the exact opposite. High school girls were immature, incapable of loving anything but the new blouse they'd bought at the mall, or their favorite lip stick. If only he could fast foward to being a college student, where women knew what it meant to love someone.

"Do you want something to drink?" Sandy offered, interrupting his thoughts.

"I'm good, thanks."

She shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Opening the mini-fridge next to the kitchen counter, she grabbed a can of _Dr. Pepper_ from the top shelf, taking a napkin from the holder as she returned to the table.

"So, you used to live with Simon's family?" The blonde inquired, seating herself.

"Yeah. My Dad was serving in Iraq for about two years, and my Aunt relocated to New York for her job. The Camdens were nice enough to put me up until my Dad came back."

"Yeah, Rose told me that Simon's Dad is a minister, right?" She asked, sipping her soda.

Before he could respond, the napkin Sandy had placed next to her can of soda blew across the table toward Martin, due to an open window on the other side of the room. Attempting to stop it before it continued, Sandy stood and leaned over the table. Without realizing it, she had also leaned over Martin. A wave of awkwardness overcame her.

"Sorry." She mumbled, hoping she wasn't blushing.

"Don't worry about it." He said, trying to ignore the fact that her upper body was lightly brushing his arm.

Strangely, though, she didn't move away, and he found himself glad about it. She was pretty, he observed. And yet, she was pretty in a different way than a high school girl was. She'd had time to age that the girls he'd dated wouldn't have for another three or four years. And then, not quite aware of what he was doing, he drew closer to her.

Meanwhile, Sandy was doing the same, despite her brain fighting her every inch of the way. She really shouldn't be doing this. Martin was only seventeen. But the longing for her innocence was too strong, and it overtook her, just as Martin's arms were doing at that very moment.

The two continued to kiss. With a numbness he'd never felt before, Martin tried hard to suppress the growing feeling that he needed more. More of this, this feeling that his inner maturity, caused by years spent without a father, and even more spent without a mother,during which time he had been hardened internally by reality, could finally be met by someone. This feeling that no high school girl could provide him.

And Sandy wanted more, too. She wanted more of the compassion, which had been lost forever within most guys she dated. To love and be loved, which in her family situation she'd never really had before. Just the thought that it was possible with Martin, regardless of his youth, was not something she could pass up. She couldn't stand being unloved, be it by her parents, or her so-called friends, or even by Simon . . .

They'd moved from their adjacent seats at the table, to her bed. She felt herself sliding backwards, her head landing on one of her pillows. Martin felt himself leaning over her, much the same way she had done to him a few minutes ago.

It all happened in one incomprehensible motion for Martin. By the time he found himself on top on Sandy on her bed, he felt his fingers almost involuntarily unbuttoning her top. That's when he stopped feeling completely. Nothing else was recognizable. None of his physical actions sent alarm to his brain like they should have. Martin Brewer was detached from everything, including himself.

Something similar was happening to Sandy. Sure, she'd done this before. But this time the experience somehow stood alone. Euphoria overcame her as she realized something. If Simon saw that she was capable of being loved by someone else, then maybe he would love her, too. By that point, her senses had been overtaken by that same Euphoria, and she didn't even notice that Martin wasn't using protection.

* * *

Two hours later, Martin and Sandy lay on her bed together, each having come crashing down from their mutual highs. As he lay next to her Martin prayed that her flesh would never come into contact with his again, in any way, ever. He was nearly disgusted by her, but mostly by himself, and everything that had happened.

"We have to get dressed, Simon's going to come looking for us." He commented, glancing at the clock. It was nearly midnight; Simon and Rose must've gone to see the matinee.

"Yeah." She replied. She was livid, not at the sight of Martin, but at the sight of herself. She had just taken the innocence, and probably the virginity, of a seventeen-year-old kid. And for what? For her yearning to be loved? Yes, but not for her yearning to be loved by Martin. She had done this for Simon, for his love and affection, which she would probably never receive anyway.

As they dressed, Sandy knew that he wasn't exactly thrilled with what had happened. It'd probably be best if they never saw each other again.

Martin asked himself repeatedly why he'd done this. Had this been how his Mother and Father raised him to act? His Mother had told him time and time again that he should always be a gentleman. Was this gentlemanly, taking advantage of a girl for his own needs? Would his father, a United States Marine, who lived solely by a code of honor which he himself tried to live by as well, praise his actions tonight? Martin knew he wouldn't.

What had he done?

But Sandy's thoughts were quite different. She didn't dare verbalize them, because it more than likely that nothing would come of them anyway. However, it stayed there, in the back fo her mind, where it had been for the past half hour:

They hadn't used protection.

* * *

Okay, that's the newest ficlet! Enjoy! Oh, and please, review!-Tessie:) 


	4. Chapter 4

Okay, this next One-shot was inspired by the episode _Chicken Noodle Heads_, which I thought was the best episode so far this season. Such great scenes! I should shut up now, right? Okay, okay, if you say so...

* * *

It wasn't fair.

Driving back from the Smith's house after what had been a disastrous conversation with his now ex-girlfriend, Meredith, that was all Martin could think.

Of all the guys, in every city, in every town, in every state of the United States of America, why had this happened to him? Up until he'd met Sandy Jameson, he thought he was doing pretty okay for himself. He did his homework, he went to church, he played baseball, he dated, he _was_ the only member of the varsity baseball team who was still a virgin; How the hell could he have been stupid enough to give all that up?

His father had told him that if he was man enough to get Sandy pregnant, then he was man enough to be responsible. The only problem was, he wasn't sure he wanted to be a man.

He'd spent so much of his life without his mother or father around that he'd figured he was adult. But he wasn't, not really. Martin Brewer was so used to calling himself a grown-up, that for him, the line between adulthood and childhood had been forever lost. That is, until the day Sandy told him she was pregnant.

Was this what a man had to do? Skip college, give up his dreams, and his girlfriend, all for a baby that he was having with a girl he never liked in the first place? It seemed like it.

Years ago, his father had been in the same situation. That was something he tended to forget. His Dad had married his Mom when she got pregnant, and then joined the Marines, all so Martin would have a family. Martin couldn't do it, though. He couldn't marry Sandy. His father and Mother had been in love, but he sure as heck wasn't in love with Sandy. He was anything but.

Every other eighteen-year-old he knew was out tonight. Out drinking, smoking pot, having countless one-night stands with girls they would probably never remember the names of, and he, Martin Brewer, who had never tried pot, never gotten drunk, and had only ever had sex once, had gotten a girl pregnant. It just didn't make sense to him.

He couldn't stand all the things he'd done in the past few weeks. Not just to himself, but to everyone around him. He'd hurt Meredith, insulted his Father, disappointed the Camdens, the list just went on and on...

And now that all of that had happened, he wasn't sure what to do next.

As much as he dreaded it, he had to talk to Ruthie. There wasn't any point in hiding it from her anymore, the rest of the Camdens already knew anyhow. Ruthie Camden was his best friend, and the last thing he wanted was to hurt her, but by keeping it from her, he was hurting her anyway, wasn't he?

He knew for a fact that she liked him, and he figured that was why she hadn't put two and two together on her own. She didn't want to know, so she wasn't trying to find out. The only thing she wanted to hear was that he loved her; and he did love her, very much, but not in the way she loved him.

After what had happened a few minutes ago with Meredith, he'd made the decision not to date for a while. Not that it mattered, when everyone at school found out about Sandy, no Father in Glen Oak would let their daughter anywhere near Martin Brewer.

He hated it. Just the thought that he had thrown everything he'd ever wanted over a proverbial cliff was enough to make him sick. He didn't want any of this, he didn't want this baby, and he didn't want Sandy.

It was then that he remembered what Meredith had told about be unwanted, being alone. He knew what it was like to be alone, that was for sure, but never had he ever been unwanted. Despite what he had told his father in the driveway that afternoon, he knew that both of his parents had loved him, even if they couldn't always be there. He wasn't sure if he could ever love this child that way.

But is that what he'd tell him or her when they got older? "Sorry, I never actually wanted you in the first place."

It hit had hit him. This was _his_ child. His child who he'd have to love, who he was _supposed_ to love, and be there for, and take care of. His child who he would meet in only four months time, and who's mother had hadn't had a decent conversation with in five.

Had he been so caught up in his own feelings, of anger and the utmost regret, that he hadn't realized that?

He needed to do something about this, because he knew that whatever happened this would be his baby, and he couldn't leave them without a father. The only problem was that he didn't know what it was he was going to do.

Turning down his block, he saw his house, no lights on within it. His Father was probably still at the Camden's, nursing the wounds of Martin's insults.

Pulling into the driveway, he locked the car and started across the street towards the Camden house.

Maybe he would ask Reverend Camden if he knew if the baby was a boy or a girl.

* * *

That's it for this one! Hope you liked it! Review, Review, Review! 

-Tessie:)


	5. Chapter 5

Hi everyone. Ok, I felt everyone needed a new chapter now that the show is on winter hiatus. I've had this written for about two weeks, but my stupid computer had other plans so I wasn't able to post it until now. So, here it is. Enjoy.

* * *

Martin sat though Christmas Eve dinner at his Aunt Betsy's apartment in New York. It was kind of awkward-or at least to him. His Father and his Aunt were both chatting away, about politics, life, and their respective jobs. Martin hadn't said more than two words all night. 

His Father had warned him on the plane ride there that he was to tell his Aunt about his situation with Sandy, or it would be a very uncomfortable holiday.

It wasn't like telling her would make it any less uncomfortable. But they'd been in New York for two days already, and Martin hadn't even alluded to Sandy's existence, let alone confessed the whole situation.

Betsy was happy to have her brother and her nephew with her for the holidays, but she knew them well enough to know that something was wrong. Beau was acting perfectly normal, but he was still obviously holding something back. Martin was the dead give away, though. Ever since he'd arrived he hadn't been himself. Normally he'd jump at the chance to tell her about school, his girlfriend, baseball, or just about anything else. However, this Christmas he hadn't even managed to look her in the eye.

Betsy finally decided that enough was enough, and if Martin wasn't going to talk to her, she'd have to break the barrier herself.

"So, Martin, how's school going this semester?"

She could swear she saw her nephew jump when she addressed him, almost like she'd frightened him.

"Pretty Good.". He answered without completely raising his head. "I've got enough credits to finish off by the end of January. After that the principal says I can just play baseball for the rest of the year."

"That's good." She smiled, glad that at last he volunteered some information. "So, what else is new? How's Meredith?"

At the mention of Meredith, she noticed the expression on Beau's face change. It wasn't really a grimace, It looked more like he'd just eaten something sour.

"Beau? Is everything alright?" She asked. Her brother didn't answer right away.

"I think It'd be better for Martin to tell you." He said finally, and then focused on taking a sip of wine.

Betsy felt her anger rising. Something was wrong here, and something had been wrong for a very long time. What was upsetting her was that neither her brother nor her nephew had bothered to tell her about it. "Okay, that's it. Martin, whatever's going on, I want to know what it is."

Martin didn't move.

"Now." Betsy said, a little more forcefully than she'd meant to.

The eighteen-year-old slowly lowered his fork, and looked directly at his Aunt. He had never intended to keep this from her. After all, everyone else in his life already knew. But of course, this had taken over his life. He could never go anywhere anymore without this stupid mistake following him. Everything was always about this; Sandy, the baby, and him.

"I'm gonna be a father. I got a girl pregnant."

Wow. That wasn't exactly was she'd been expecting. No wonder he'd been acting oddly.

"How does Meredith feel about it?" The poor girl. After all Martin had said about what she'd been through in foster care, and now this.

It took Martin another few seconds before she told her. "It's not Meredith. It's another girl."

Another girl? What other girl was there? If it wasn't Meredith, then the only other possibility was...

"Ruthie Camden?" Betsy was shocked at the thought. Ruthie was only sixteen, she and Martin weren't even a couple. How had this happened?

But, to her relief, Martin shook his head. "It's not Ruthie."

Betsy shot a look at Beau. He'd heard all of this before, no doubt. She felt bad, because she knew how much her nephew idolized his father. Maybe she should talk to Martin alone.

"Beau, I just remembered, I'm out of dishwashing liquid. Could you walk down to the convenience store on the corner and get some for me?"

"No problem." Beau said, rising and taking the napkin out of his lap. "I'll be back in a few minutes." He'd gotten the hint, Betsy knew. He'd be gone for a while.

After a few seconds, Beau's footsteps could be heard walking down the hall towards the elevator. Betsy and Martin looked at each other in silence.

"Was she a one night stand?" The blonde asked her nephew. A look of shame was present on his face as he nodded his head.

"She's a friend of Simon's."

Betsy listened intently as Martin told her the entire story, from his mistake with Sandy to the brief phone call he'd made to her a few days before he'd come to New York. The phone call in which he'd told her that he was sorry for insulting her, but he didn't want to be a father.

"So, other than that phone call, you haven't talked to her at all?" She asked when he'd finished.

"Not really."

What was odd about the whole thing was thathe seemed completely fine with the fact that he was about to abandon his own child. This wasn't theMartin she knew.

"Why don't you want to help her?"

Martin was quiet for a second, only to fume in anger the next. "I don't want to help her because she's probably been doing this her whole life! Do you think she lost her virginity to _me_? She's probably slept with half the college, what did she think would happen sooner or later? I just happen to be the unlucky guy who was in the wrong place at the wrong time"

Part of her was tempted to yell back at Martin. Regardless of who this girl was, or what her past was like, this was his baby she was having. It would have his DNA, his genes, his flesh and blood. But no, yelling wouldn't make him see that. But maybe something else would...

"Martin, come with me a second. I want to show you something." She said with a slight smile, trying to look encouraging.

Looking a bit unsure of himself, Martin stood up and followed Betsy down the hallway of her apartment, toward the back room which he knew to be her bedroom. He had no idea what it was she wanted to show him, but whatever it was he hoped it wouldn't involve a lecture.

* * *

Once inside her room, Betsy motioned for him to sit on the bed. Meanwhile, she went over to her dresser and opened the top drawer. After rummaging around for a bit, she found what she was looking for. She lifted what looked like a miniature binder out of the drawer and shut it before taking a seat on the bed beside Martin. 

"This is pretty old. I made it; Eighteen years ago, actually." As she handed him the item, he noticed that it was not a miniature binder, but a photo album. It was light blue and covered in matching lace, with a heart-shaped stitch in the cover. Inside the heart, in cursive writing, which Martin felt sure it was difficult to stitch into lace, was one word: _Martin_.

Gingerly opening the cover, Martin flipped through the pages of the album. He saw that there was one picture for each year he'd been alive. From his first birthday, to his eighteenth, and most recent. Each picture was unique. One was a Christmas card photo, which he didn't recall, as he'd only been two at the time. One was a school picture he remembered as being taken in the third grade,in whichsmilingwith a grinthat was missing two front teeth. Yet another was from his Elementary school graduation, where he held his diploma up for the camera, upside down. The first birthday he'd had in Glen Oak, just after they'd moved in, which had been his sixteenth, was also there.And finally, his eighteenth birthday, which was represented by a picture of him at the batting cages, helmet on and shirt soaked with sweat.

That was when he realized that in each picture he was alone, which was intended, by the looks of his Aunt's hard work at cropping the pictures. In each picture except for one. He hadn't noticed it before because it wasn't in chronological like the rest of them. It was in the back, separated from the others. This one was not from any of his birthdays, or rather, not one of his celebrated birthdays. He knew that immediately by looking at it. As he slid it out of the plastic protector, his Aunt spoke.

"I took that picture. At Middlebury Hospital in Santa Rosa, California. Fourth Floor, room 275. Window side."

Martin inspected the picture more closely, and saw that it was of his father, quite a few years younger by the length for his hair, and the smoothness of his skin. He stood beside what looked like a hospital bed, but Martin couldn't tell for sure, since the photo only included about half of it. The look on his Father's face wasn't exactly a smile, but it wasn't a look of shock, either. It was only comparable to the look of a small child on Christmas morning who looks under the tree to find that everything he ever wished for is there. It was only then that Martin could see what it was his father was looking at. In his arms was a newborn, wrapped in a blue blanket, barely visible in his muscular arms. The dark haired baby looked very familiar, as it should have. It was Martin himself.

"How do you remember all that?" The young man asked, thinking it impossible that anyone could remember that much detail from something that had happened so many years ago.

"How could I not remember it? You were my first nephew, I was counting the days until I could spoil you." Betsy said, smiling at the memory. "Plus, let's be realistic, I was sixteen when you were born, I needed the baby-sitting money."

Martin took the picture from her hand, and gently traced his finger down the edge of it. His Father looked tired, like he'd been up all night. His dress blues were not crisp and ironed like they normally were, and his hair was tousled beyond belief. The Bill Brewer that Martin knew was never discombobulated, but rather very straight laced and organized. A true Marine. To see him like this, even if it was only in a picture, was laughable.

"Your Dad was a total wreck that day. And when I say 'wreck', I mean, it was bad." Betsy put an arm around her nephew, patting him on the shoulder. "One of the doctors gave him some scrubs to wear, and he when he went into a supply closet to put them on, he was gone for a while."

"What, was he lost or something?" Martin asked, having never heard the story before.

Betsy shook her head and continued. "I was starting to wonder where he was, so I went and knocked on the door of the closet, and asked if he was in there. The next thing I heard was Bill calling 'Betsy, I can't get out of here, the door's stuck!', so I tried pulling on it from the outside, but It still wouldn't open. Then I realized what the problem was, and I yelled through the door. 'Beau, did you remember to unlock the door before you tried opening it?' Sure enough, he unlocked the door and walked out. He looked so mortified, I wish I would have taken a picture."

Martin laughed genuinely for the first time in quite a few weeks. It felt good to laugh again. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like.

"All that aside, there's a reason I wanted to show you all this" She took her hand off Martin's shoulder, and instead soothingly stroked his head of shinny dark hair. She was reminded that her hair was the same color, she only dyed it blonde to be more fashionable.

Opening the photo album again, this time to the very back cover, she carefully lifted a piece of paper that had been taped there. It was folded in half, so Martin couldn't read what it said, but he had a feeling that he was about to find out.

"This was the card that your Dad wrote to you when you were born. They accidently left it behind when your Mom was discharged, so I took it, but somehow it got lost in the shuffle and I never managed to give it back. Anyway, I think you should read it.

Martin took the card from her. It was small, and it looked like it had been purchased from the hospital gift shop, as it was very simple. 'For my Son' was written on the front, but nothing else. The handwriting inside, which he recognized as his Father's, was kind of sloppy, so it was probably a rush job. His eyes slowly scanning the page, Martin began to read:

_We are a family now, a whole,  
Of which you are a part,  
And I would not have ever guessed  
that you could own my heart._

_There is no limit to my love,  
No boundary you might cross,  
No price you might be asked to pay,  
No need to fear it's loss. _

_We are now one, the three of us,  
The windows of one home.  
As long as I have life and breath,  
You'll never be alone._

Martin bit his tongue to avoid the subtle sting of tears. He couldn't imagine his Father writing something like this. Even when Bill would send Christmas cards to his wife, they were signed simply 'Love, Beau.'

"Did Dad write this himself?" Martin inquired, glancing at the page again.

Betsy nearly laughed. "Your Father? Are we talking about the same person, Martin? You know as well as I do that Bill Brewer is many things, but a poet isn't one of them. He found this in a book the library. He was too beside himself to speak at the time, so he let the poem do it for him."

Martin knew what she was getting at. Why hadn't he seen it before?

His Aunt looked at him seriously. "Martin, I know it seems really far away right now, but I know you, and I know that when your son or daughter is born, you'll love them just as much as your Dad loves you."

He remembered the look on his Dad's face in the picture. That familiar sense of regret in the utmost capacity bit at his mind again, and for a short moment he wished he hadn't said some of the things that he had. Was that what it was like to become a Father? Was that how he would feel? The eighteen-year-old couldn't believe it. His Father had wanted him, had been in love with his mother; this was different.

"I don't think I'll be able to love it, Aunt Betsy." He said, yet for some reason he was unable to look her in the eye. "It's too complicated, this wasn't supposed to happen."

Betsy stood up, facing her nephew. "No, it wasn't. But sometimes you can't control things that happen in life, sometimes you just have to let fate take over. Remember that, Martin."

And with that she stood, put the album back in her dresser, and left the room. Martin stayed put, drowned in thought.He couldn't begin to predict what would happen in the coming weeks, but even if he could, he wasn't so sure that he wanted to know.

* * *

That's it! Hope you enjoyed, please review!-Tessie:) 


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